


Honey

by orphan_account



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Bees, Gen, i freaking hate bees man, poor tybalt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4405556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tybalt has an encounter with a buzzing pest; and then he nearly gets stung by a bee. To Benvolio, it's an eventful day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey

Another day, another fight, Benvolio thought to himself dully, eyes flickering back and forth between the parrying dance that Mercutio and Tybalt were carrying out in front of the assembled audience of at least ten Montagues and Capulets combined. If anyone had asked, not one of those people would have been able to say what the argument was started over; Benvolio would wager that the two main players themselves didn’t even know. But Mercutio and Tybalt were like hydrogen and oxygen- put them together and there was sure to be an explosion.

Today, at least, the swords hadn’t been brought out- Benvolio always tried to look on the bright side by gauging the chances of someone getting stabbed that day, and as long as the fight didn’t escalate anymore those chances looked pretty fair. So far, the only weapons were both combatants’ acrid tongues; gaze swiveling between the dark clad, incensed Tybalt and impish Mercutio, who was obviously having the time of his life, Benvolio resolved to wait until the brawl got physical before trying to intervene.

“So, Tybalt, what’s with all the leather?” Mercutio chirped, crouching casually on the edge of the large fountain in the middle of town square and resting his chin on his palm, which balanced precariously on his knee. “Let me guess, you must have robbed a BSDM store?”

Tybalt flexed his fists, his fingerless- indeed leather, Benvolio noted with wry amusement- gloves outlining the curves of his hand. “Sorry, that seems more your forte; the only one _I’ll_ be whipping today is you, Mercutio. They’ll still be finding your teeth scattered along these streets in twenty years.”

“You sure you don’t want to knock out your own while you’re at it?” Fearlessly, Mercutio bared his teeth like a lion. “Looking a little crooked there, buddy.”

“Call me ‘buddy’ one more time and you won’t live to regret it!”

“Whatever you say, pal,” Mercutio shot back without missing a beat, and his last word turned into a hoot of amusement when Tybalt swung at him with his fist. Before the blond could dance out of the way, however, Tybalt had seized him by the shoulders and had him pressed up against the fountain’s edge; it had become a fight to see who could force each other into the water first. Spurred on by the shouts and cheers of the assembled crowd, neither brawler was intent on getting drenched that day. 

They fought tooth and nail; literally, Mercutio dragging his fingernails down the side of Tybalt’s face and the Capulet automatically moving to bite him. As his teeth sunk into the fleshy part of Mercutio’s hand, the royal let out a yelp mixed with a curse; the distraction, however, was enough for him to shove himself away from Tybalt and attempt one last valiant push to land the other boy headfirst in the fountain. Tybalt, with all the grace of a cat- or at least of someone who’d spent their entire lives undergoing intensive fencing training- managed to easily regain his balance and stood on the rim of the fountain, swinging at Mercutio’s head with his fists.

“Your blows miss me still!” jeered Mercutio. “Poor Tybalt must not be eating his vegetables- or getting much exercise!”

Benvolio was the first person to spot it; a tiny little speck, buzzing out of the corner of his eye and gradually venturing closer to thee brawling boys. Oblivious, Tybalt parried back to Mercutio’s comment with another swing of his fists- “I can still strangle you any day of the week!” to which Mercutio replied with an immediate “Kinky!” that earned him a solid kick to the stomach.

With Mercutio winded on the ground, Tybalt seemed ready to pounce with the death blow, and Benvolio was gearing himself up to step in and prevent his best friend from ending up with his head splattered like a watermelon; but his eyes still followed the bee as it edged ever close to Tybalt’s unruly mane of hair.

Mercutio was soon enough to spot it. Still on the ground- whether he was unable to get up or simply was curious to see if Tybalt was really about to bodyslam him, Benvolio wasn’t sure- his eyes locked on the unwanted visitor and a wolfish grin lit up his face. “Tybalt, I think you have an admirer!”

The utter bafflement on the Capulet’s face was something to be marvelled at. Demonstratively, without a word Mercutio pointed to the bee that bussed around the center of the fountain; in the same second, in one single fell swoop the bee dove for Tybalt’s head.

Maybe it was attracted by the dark clothing, or by the scent of Tybalt’s overly-masculine cologne. Maybe it wanted to form its new home in his mess of hair. Maybe it just liked leather as much as Tybalt did. Whatever the bee’s motives were for spontaneously attacking the Capulet, Tybalt obviously wasn’t in the mood to stop and think; with a sudden yelp that brought to mind the stark image of a cat being run over by a pack of dogs, Tybalt promptly began swinging at the bee with all his might.

No one was surprised by what happened next. Frankly, Benvolio had been waiting for it; as Tybalt pinwheeled back, he was pleased to find that it had happened quicker than expected. He’d been sure that Mercutio would have been trounced before Tybalt landed ass-first in Verona’s marble beauty; as, with a yelp, the swordsman fell back and landed in the water, Benvolio realized that he’d quite obviously been wrong.

Tybalt sat in the fountain, stunned and dripping; equally surprised at what could only seem to be his divine reprieve, Mercutio blinked up from the ground.

At the very least, Benvolio thought, the bee was gone. And no one ran the risk of getting stabbed anymore. One always had to look on the bright side.

“So…” Mercutio tilted his head, smirking. “This means I’m allowed to call you _‘honey’_ , then?”

Tybalt rewarded him with a splash of water to the face.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't like bees. I really, really hate bees. (Also, yes, this is the infamous incident where Tybalt actually bit Mercutio. I've mentioned it in a few of my other stories. Tybalt fights like an incensed drag queen, tbh.)


End file.
